


Our Souls Intertwined

by dvorahbee



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, S03 E06, Self-Indulgent, Stream of Consciousness, The Author is Crying, no beta we die like men, yes I am late and am only watching the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26496877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvorahbee/pseuds/dvorahbee
Summary: "I will protect you" Ragnar had said to him, and Gods knew that he kept his promises. Well, he usually did, sometimes he did not, but this was different. No harm would come of Athelstan or, Odin would be his witness, he would have no mercy.Aka where I live in deep denial and Athelstan does NOT die, Bjorn does NOT go behind his father's back because Athelstan is family, god damnit.
Relationships: Athelstan/Ragnar Lothbrok
Comments: 5
Kudos: 128





	Our Souls Intertwined

**Author's Note:**

> Both Athelstan's and Ragnars point of views - a hyphen will signal when the pov changes.

Athelstan felt like he was flying high. For the first time in years and years, his thoughts were clear. Mostly.

He had said to Ragnar that he was reborn, and he was, he truly felt the closest he had ever felt to God, there was no uncertainty any more between his family’s gods and his own. His _family_. That is what they were for him. He cared for them deeply. Lagertha. Bjorn. Hvitserk. Ubbe. Sigurd. Ivar. Even Rollo and Aslaug. And of course, Ragnar.

There lied the smudge in his almost clear vision and path. In between his conflicted thoughts about God and about Odin, Thor and Freyr, there undoubtedly were, and had been for a long time, conflicted thoughts about Ragnar as well.

Ragnar started as a savage. A heathen. A pagan. Then a master. And quickly became a friend and a brother. However, his tortured mind would not let up. What if they were _more_? What if there _could_ _be_ more?

He usually kept all these questions away for his mind would become entangled in the feared abyss of feelings he did not want to acknowledge. But sometimes, oh, sometimes, when he was alone, which was not often but happened anyway, these intrusive thoughts would come rushing back to his head and he would get dizzy with them.

He had always admired Ragnar. He had come from nothing and was now king. He was fearless. Courageous. Reckless. Dangerous. Everything Athelstan was not. And when his head would become dizzy with thoughts, he would admire how tall the king, his _friend_ , was. How his hair would be braided so meticulously. How his tattoos would roll around on his skin. How his hand, his farmer and warrior hands, would press into a powerful fist. How his eyes were so blue it felt like God had poured the whole ocean in them. How the blood would drip from his brows after a battle.

However, he could not think too much about these now, he just could not _admire_ any more. His Lord had shown himself to him and he had been chosen to be reborn again. But if Athelstan, after years of uncertainty, paganism, adultery, and sin, could be reborn and accepted into Christ’s heart, then maybe, just maybe the thoughts, the terrible, awful, beautiful thoughts, would be acceptable.

After all, Christ loved all his children, didn’t he?

-

Ragnar was trying to get it together. Between the colony in Wessex that had been purposely ruined, his people that had been massacred, Aslaug treachery and now, Athelstan recovering his faith for his god. It became clearer to him that coming back to Kattegat had been a bad idea.

Athelstan had talked about being born again – Ragnar has no issue with it – and about leaving – that he had an issue with. Several, in fact, a lot, most of them.

Ragnar had said he loved him, without an ounce of doubt in his mind that what the words he was uttering were true. He loved Athelstan and that was it. He had accepted it a long time ago. The priest, _his_ priest, had fascinated him as soon as he had laid eyes on him and had taken him back to Kattegat. He had actually no intention of taking the young monk as a slave, but the earl had been grating on his nerves and what was he to do?

In any case, Athelstan had become a free man in the end and, most importantly, had become his friend and family. He had cared for his family and for his people and had helped him through so many situations over the years. His dreams to settle colonies on another continent had been fulfilled in part because of Athelstan. He never regretted taking the priest with him, never regretted it one bit.

However, what he did regret was that the _priest_ was what he was and that his love for his god might be mightier than his own wishes. Ragnar’s love for him went, _flew_ , above friend and family. He did not know how it happened but they had a bond and shared it so deeply that the mere idea of Athelstan leaving had provoked such a violent reaction in his heart that he hadn’t been able to stop himself. To assert to Athelstan that he trusted, _really_ trusted, only him, that he loved him and that he would protect him, whatever may come, and he would. Because he knew that something would come.

Athelstan’s faith had always been problematic with a few people of Kattegat but as the years had gone by and as Athelstan had become more and more integrated in their every day lives and customs, people’s doubts and suspicions had slowly gone away. However, now that the priest was a priest again it would no doubt stir the machine.

Floki would be one of the machine’s screws that would unscrew itself fast and very dangerously if the news of Athelstan were to be learned. But that was not an issue for now. He would worry about it later, for now he was only glad that Athelstan had not talked more about leaving. About leaving _him_.

He had been trying to think of a solution for the settlement, and of a punishment for the king of Wessex and his son, when Bjorn had come in.

“Father, can I have a word?”

“Can I stop you?” Ragnar asked, because he felt like another problem was coming.

Bjorn only looked at him and showed him his hand. No, not his hand, what was in it. An arm ring. Athelstan’s arm ring.

“Why do you have that?”

“Floki gave it to me,” Bjorn answered.

“Why would Floki have Athelstan’s arm ring?”

“He said that,” Bjorn started to say and hesitated. “He said that he saw Athelstan take it off. Take the _sacred_ arm ring off and throw it in the river.” Ragnar frowned, why would the priest do that? Bjorn went on. “Floki has asked me to show it to everyone and to explained what happened. He told me to say that Athelstan rejected our Gods. That he was a Christian again and always had been. Is it true?”

“Why have you come here if you do not even trust Athelstan?” Ragnar asked. He turned around. He did not want Bjorn to see his face while they talked. He rarely liked when anyone would see his face while he talked. Except…well, except the priest.

“It’s not that I don’t trust him, but I want to trust your judgement and Athelstan is family. Is it true?”

His assertiveness made him think of Lagertha. He smiled. Like mother like son, then.

“It is true that he…found his way back to his god, but that doesn’t mean that he spat on our own Gods. He respects us. I know he does, and you do too.”

“You should have a talk with Floki, then, father. He is upset. He had a look in his eyes. It looks like Loki himself was whispering in his ears.”

“Do not worry about Floki,” Ragnar flailed his hand around in what would be a very Floki manner. There were more important matters right now.

-

Athelstan was staring at the ground where he had been lying earlier and marveling at it when there was a knock on the wooden door. He stood up from his cot and went to open it, frowned slightly when he saw Ragnar behind it.

“Since when do you knock?” He asked the king.

“I don’t know, you could have been having a moment with your god, I would not want to bother you,” Ragnar grinned as he came in.

“You’re never a bother, Ragnar,” Athelstan said softly, cheeks blushing as he cursed his mouth.

“Am I not? Then why did you throw away your arm ring?” Ragnar asked, lips tight, not grinning anymore, showing him the ring in his hand. “It should be on your arm, not in the fjord.”

“I- ”

“I understand that your god has got you back, but why did you throw it away? Does your lord not accept you to have it? I understand that you cannot acknowledge my Gods, but the arm ring does not represent them, they do not even represent fealty for the earl or king, they represent my lo- your _bond_ to me, as my friend. Can’t your god accept that? Can’t _you_ accept that?”

Ragnar rarely talked a lot. He liked short sentences and answers, so when he did talk a lot it worried Athelstan. Guilt rushed through him instantly.

“I really did not mean to throw it away. I was caught up in the moment. I was terribly happy but at the same time I felt like you might not accept me as part of your family as _this_ me. I really did not mean to question the arm ring. I do accept it and I cherish our friendship. More than anything else,” Athelstan rushed to say.

“More than your god?”

“Don’t push it.”

Ragnar smiled this lovely smile that Athelstan would think about later when the _thoughts_ would come back to him. The king walked toward him slowly and took his hand in his own warm, big hand. He caressed the scar here and Athelstan shuddered. Ragnar was still smiling but was looking down at their hands. He gently put the arm ring back on his wrist. Where it belonged. Athelstan felt like a fool.

“I’m sorry,” Athelstan started to say but Ragnar shook his head and stroked the metal of the ring and his skin at the same time.

He looked down as well, at Ragnar’s hand and felt the urge to do something foolish like take that hand in his. And so, he did, as he shut down the alarms in his head. He needed to do this.

His hand brushed Ragnar’s and took it. Warmth ran through him.

“You do know that what I said before is not a lie, right?” Ragnar asked, deep blue ocean eyes looking right through his.

“Yes, I know you’ll protect me, but I can also protect myself, now.”

“I know you can but that is not what I mean. I said, well, I said that I love you, and I do. You know I do not use these words lightly.”

“I do, and I love you as well, my friend.”

Ragnar frowned.

“Not- Not as a friend. I mean that I love you as more than that, more than a brother, more than family, although you still are all those things to me as well.” Ragnar took the hand he was holding and placed in on his heart. “What I mean, is that, the beating you feel beneath your hand, is for _you_. Only for you.”

Athelstan gasped. He did not know what to say. His hand was warm in between Ragnar’s heart and own hand and the priest felt overwhelmed. All his thoughts came rushing back.

Ragnar was a beautiful man. Not in the sense of an aesthetic beauty, although that was true too, no, Ragnar had a beautiful soul, despite being dangerous and reckless, Athelstan felt like their two souls were linked and intertwined somehow. And maybe that was the most important thing in the eyes of Christ.

He lifted his free hand and brushed Ragnar’s cheek with it and went for it. The fatal blow in his own rapidly beating heart.

“Do you know that even though I felt, and still feel, immense joy by being chosen by God I still felt a deep sorrow for I could not bear the idea that you would want me to leave. I believe that God accepts everyone, even sinful and doubtful people, in his heart as long as their own is true and whole. And mine could not be fuller than when I am with you, Ragnar.”

Ragnar was staring at him, his eyes full of hope. He let go of the hand he was holding and put both of his own hand on Athelstan’s cheeks, a mirror of the priest’s gesture.

“Can I, Athelstan?” Ragnar asked, using his name, which he rarely did.

Athelstan laughed breathlessly.

“Yes, of- ” and could not finish his sentence. Ragnar’s lips were on his, warm, gentle, beautiful and his heart was finally whole and quiet.

After a few quiet moments, Ragnar uttered, “I am overjoyed, it feels like my heart is going to beat of my body. I love you, priest.”

Athelstan smiled softly at him and leaned again to his king’s lips.

-

Ragnar was kissing Athelstan and it felt, for a little while, as if everything was right in the world, in their own world where gods blurred.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. I haven't come back to AO3 in flipping years, one of my fics has been waiting for me since like 2017????? and it just takes me starting to watch Vikings and dying over Athelstan and Ragnar to come back. Oh well.
> 
> I did not write a scene with Floki because honestly, fuck him, I imagine Ragnar going there growling at him to fucking go home and only come back when he won’t be a jealous massive asshole.
> 
> No beta reader, I literally just wrote it because I finished the episode earlier today and have been a MESS ever since. So if there are grammar mistakes, typos, etc, v sorry, I'm typing through my tears. Also English is not my first language. 
> 
> Also I'm not a Christian, I have no idea wtf I'm babbling about -same goes for Norse mythology, although I know probably more about that tbh).
> 
> Do enjoy and tell me what you thought, pretty please with an axe on top ;)


End file.
